


lookin' for high, divine connection

by uneventfulhouses



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP, Weed, hipster glasses shane, snapback ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uneventfulhouses/pseuds/uneventfulhouses
Summary: "hello I see you’re 102 feet away and I have a proposition for you. I’m currently eating macaroni and cheese and I want something to drink but all I have in my apartment rn is orange soda left over from a Halloween party and I do not want to drink that. SO….if you go to 7/11 and get me a double gulp horchata and bring it to my apartment I’ll blow you"or; shane goes to 7/11 and gets a blow job out of it.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 38
Kudos: 395





	lookin' for high, divine connection

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by [this photo](https://twitter.com/mightbecursed/status/1199408468022530048). shout out to the discord babes. and [joanna](https://anxiousghouligan.tumblr.com/) for beta reading.   
> this a work of fiction, just have fun! as always, all mistakes are my own.

_hello I see you’re 102 feet away and I have a  
proposition for you. I’m currently eating   
macaroni and cheese and I want something   
to drink but all I have in my apartment rn is   
orange soda left over from a Halloween party   
and I do not want to drink that. SO….if you go   
to 7/11 and get me a double gulp horchata   
and bring it to my apartment I’ll blow you_

As soon as Ryan’s finished typing, he hits send. He knows better than to go on these apps when he’s high, but he’s got that lazy feeling in his bones that makes him wanna straddle someone, suck smoke from their lungs while they grind like horny teenagers. A message doesn’t pop up right away, and Ryan thinks that maybe he’s going to get left on read, but then a response lights up his screen.

_Anything else while I’m here? I guess it’s only polite to ask._

Ryan grins at his phone, feeling way too self-satisfied.

_Um, no. but there’s leftover mac and cheese if you’re hungry._

[thumbs up emoji]

Well. That was all too easy. Sure, he’s essentially selling the services of a good blow job just so he doesn’t have to get off the couch, but he’s really not all that bothered by it. There’s been worse, and this is probably a _three_ on the scale of stupid shit Ryan gets up to while he’s stoned. But either way, he’s getting what he wants, and a good blowjob always leads to good things, so all in all, it’s set up to be an excellent summer afternoon.

It’s just over fifteen minutes that he waits, and the cotton mouth has settled in viciously. He’s finished his macaroni and cheese, setting his bowl on the coffee table. After a second thought, he decides to set it down in the sink. And then, he figures it doesn’t really matter what he does with the bowl.

There’s a knock at his door and he steps out of the kitchen and goes to answer it.

Standing on his step is someone promising, if his height has any bearing on what Ryan’s gonna find in his pants. He’s bearded, scruffy, wearing a green shirt and a royal blue baseball cap, and he really reminds Ryan of Shaggy, and that’s not really a bad thing at all. He’s like a hipster, delivered right to him, and fuck if Ryan doesn’t just love it, adoring the stupid clear frame glasses over brown eyes. What’s really important here, is he’s holding Ryan’s drink in one hand and chips in the other, and Ryan hadn’t known he wanted chips, but he _does_ now.

“Uh, I’m Shane?”

“Cool. Come in,” Ryan says, widening the door. The stranger steps inside and Ryan reaches for his drink, adjusting the snap back on his head, drinking _finally_ , which makes him moan just a little bit. “Thank _you_ ,” he says. “I thought I was going to die. Anyways, I’m Ryan, welcome to my crib. Do you want to do this on the couch, or do you want to come to my room? I don’t think anyone’s going to be here anytime soon, but we can risk it, if you’re into that.”

Shane eyes him, smiling just enough that Ryan feels a little giddy about what’s going to happen in the next few minutes.

“I’m good wherever you are.”

“My room it is, then.”

And that’s really the end of that conversation, Ryan reaching for the stranger’s wrist, just above where he wore a watch. Shane follows willingly.

Summertime had set in, and Ryan was truly at his laziest; freshly graduated from film school he was truly cherishing his class-less days, worry free. There were clothes all over his room, and he could’ve picked up, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s not like Shane’s really looking around. He sets his drink on the nightstand, snatching the bag of chips from Shane’s hand to set that down, too. And because his brain is sluggish, Shane’s glasses are an after-after thought; he uses both his hands to slide them from Shane’s face, folding them. On the nightstand they go. Shane’s breathy laughter makes Ryan lick his lips.

“All set?” he asks, and Ryan just presses himself to Shane’s body, hip to hip, hand on the back of Shane’s neck to drag him down.

Ryan likes tall guys, but mostly only horizontally, because he hates standing on the tips of his toes just to kiss them. But he likes the way Shane gives into him, sacrificing his posture to lean into Ryan’s space, mouth hot and inviting, dirty when he slips Ryan tongue without much of an introduction. Ryan shudders when Shane’s hands fall lazy over his ass, pulling them closer; Shane had to have been sporting a semi in the middle of 7/11, because Ryan can feel him, full and hard against his belly. Ryan’s flesh warms, just this side of too much, and he presses closer, fingers grappling over Shane’s back, wanting more.

The negotiation was for Ryan to blow him, but Ryan finds he likes the way Shane kisses, and down the vine of that same thought, Ryan has a little hunch that he’s probably _alright_ in bed, and he isn’t opposed to making mountains out of molehills if that means he gets off.

Ryan’s got absolutely nothing to do for the rest of the day, but that doesn’t stop him from progressing this to what Shane had originally come here for in the first place. He’s suddenly hungry for it; fingers underneath the front of Shane’s shirt, finding the button of his pants, tucking his index and middle fingers under the elastic of Shane’s underwear, tugging lightly. Shane rolls his hips into Ryan’s and rather than continue, there’s a _spark_ of a thought. Looking up at Shane, he’s delighted in what he sees; dark eyes, heavy lidded and hazy, mouth wet from Ryan’s saliva, cheeks flushed in that good-kiss kind of way.

“Do you maybe wanna smoke first?” Ryan asks, but his hands betray him, fingertips tripping over Shane’s stomach to pop the button of his jeans and lower the zipper.

“During,” Shane mumbles, leaning back in; his mouth scorches over Ryan’s neck, beard burning against his skin.

Ryan likes that, he likes the idea of Shane smoking while he sucks his dick so much it makes him a little dizzy, cause he knows exactly what he’ll be rewarded with, the scene that’ll play out in front of him. He’s _excited_. It’s been a while since he’s given head, and Ryan’s always liked doing it, like the feeling of a good, strong cock on his tongue, insistent against the back of his throat. He liked the slight feeling of not being able to breathe, the way his voice sounds so fucked afterwards.

Admittedly, those kinda blowjobs are few and far in between, but when he gets his hand over Shane’s cock, a thrill of excitement flutters down his spine.

“Unless?” Shane asks; he looks at Ryan and bites down on his lip as Ryan strokes him inside of his jeans, but Ryan withdraws his hand, fingers gripping Shane’s shirt as he brings him down, just so he can lick his tongue over Shane’s bottom lip to soothe the bite.

“No, that’s good. I’m into that, yeah,” Ryan says, and then he pulls out of Shane’s grasp, fingers still clutching the fabric of Shane’s green shirt. Ryan drags him and Shane goes willingly. Ryan pushes him back against the edge of his bed, until Shane is falling back, sitting but reclined, held up by his elbows. Ryan likes what he sees, the way Shane licks his lips, how hard he is in his jeans.

In the drawer of his nightstand, Ryan flips over the lid to his little tin weed box, pulling out one of the joints he’d rolled this morning. With a lighter from the same box, Ryan keeps his eyes on Shane as he lights up, taking a healthy inhale, trapping his breath in his lungs; he sits astride Shane’s thighs, pressing their hips together in a short, delicious drag that makes Shane shudder, groan, and reach out a very big hand to hold Ryan’s hip. When Ryan leans forward, he discovers Shane’s eyes are a very, very pretty shade of amber.

When he touches his lips to Shane’s, Shane knows to open up; he sucks the breath right from Ryan’s lungs, blowing it right back in Ryan’s face, smiling wide and lascivious and in such a manner that makes Ryan bite down on his lip, heart skipping through beats like it doesn’t need them. The heady feeling settles a grasp on Ryan’s brain and he’s lazy again, body languid.

“Here,” Ryan says, handing the joint to Shane, tossing the lighter among his twisted bedspread. He drips down Shane’s body, dragging lips and hands, fingertips pushing up Shane’s shirt so he can lick over Shane’s flesh, fit his fingers in the spaces between his ribs. He nips Shane’s navel, licks, feels compelled to suck a little hickey just to the side of it. When he looks up, Shane’s looking at him, lips parted, smoke billowing from his mouth, eyes rapt when they meet Ryan’s. 

Ryan climbs off, knees on the carpet, hands on Shane’s jeans, pulling apart the flaps of his fly, hooking fingers into the waistband of the black underwear to just get him as undressed as possible. Shane lifts his hips, and Ryan’s hands yank his clothes down, over his knees to pool above his dirty white high-top chucks. Ryan fits his shoulders between Shane’s knees, licks over the soft of his inner thighs. He likes this vantage point, loves it, looking at Shane just over where his cock sits heavy, flushed, thick and long like Ryan hoped he’d be. Shane’s still smoking; the air smells like weed, like lazy desperation. Shane lets the joint burn in one hand, leaning against his elbow, just so he can reach for Ryan, touching his thumb to Ryan’s bottom lip.

“Come on,” Shane says, impatiently, and Ryan doesn’t like being pushed around so he takes his time. Ryan curls his fingers around the length of Shane’s cock, licking his tongue over the heaviness of his balls, relishing in the punched-out groan Shane makes, the sound renting the air for just a moment, before dissipating into Shane’s heavy breathing. Ryan mouths over him, eyes on Shane the whole time, because it’s been seconds, if that, and Shane already looks wrecked, stoned out of his mind, low-lidded eyes staring back at him. And Ryan gets on, tongue at the base, wrapping his lips where he can, wetting Shane with his tongue; Ryan’s hard too, and each time Shane makes a noise, sex-saturated, it sends shocks down to Ryan’s dick. He wants to touch himself, but he doesn’t want to ruin it; he gets off like this, with his mouth on men, watching them unravel underneath him, just cause he’s a good boy with that mouth of his.

When Ryan licks a long stripe up the side, satin flesh burning against Ryan’s tongue, he twists his fist over the tip; Shane's so wet he's dripping a little.

“Fuck, _Ryan_ ,” Shane breathes, biting down on his lip, so hard Ryan thinks he might bite clear through. Ryan’s eyes flutter closed, just for a second when Shane’s fingers drift slow over the line of his jaw.

“Good?” Ryan asks, just before he takes Shane into his mouth, as far as he can; Shane’s hips shift and he feels that delicious push against the back of his throat, choking just a little; spit dribbles down the shaft and Ryan uses it, lubricating his grip as he strokes.

“You _know_ it is,” Shane mutters, pushing his hips up again; he shoves Ryan’s snapback off with his long fingers, just so he can slip them through his hair, tugging just a little. Ryan hums, sucking on the upstroke, pulling off of Shane with a lewd pop, just so he can suckle at the tip, hand pumping close to the base. Ryan likes what he sees so much; Shane’s chest moves with each of his breaths, ribcage expanding and contracting; heat pools in Ryan’s stomach, white-hot, insistent, and fuck, he’s so hard, but he wants to see Shane come, so he’s fervent about it, licking, sucking, fingers fondling the hot, heavy weight of Shane’s balls just to hear him hiss his name.

“God, wait—I’m gonna—” Shane babbles, tugging on Ryan’s hair again, little shocks flushing through him; Ryan’s hips search for something to rub against, but there isn’t anything, just the persistent desperation. He’s so hard it almost hurts.

And it’s not like Shane telling him to wait is really going to stop Ryan, not when he can already taste Shane salty and bitter in his mouth. Ryan just goes for it, takes Shane as far as he can, and Ryan wishes it was farther, wishes he could just take the thick of Shane down his throat. As it goes, it doesn’t make a difference; Shane’s flushed down his chest, nipples pretty, hard when Ryan reaches up to touch. Shane’s throwing his head back, voice deep when he groans. Ryan can feel Shane’s thighs tremble underneath him. Shane comes, pulsing against Ryan’s tongue, thick ropes of it pooling in his mouth; it drips a little from the corners of his lips, and when Ryan pulls off, he swallows, gulping down breaths of air and cleans up the mess he’s made, licking slow, knowing Shane’s probably sensitive to it. Shane collapses against the bed, sucks on the forgotten joint between his fingers like Ryan hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him.

“Come here,” Shane says, and Ryan does, climbing on the bed, sitting on Shane’s naked lap, knees tucked close to his hips. Shane doesn’t waste any time; he licks his hand, dipping his fingers into Ryan’s sweatpants, closing around the length of him. Ryan can hear Shane say, “You’re so fucking hot, what the _fuck,_ ” but it gets lost in the jumbled mess of Ryan’s brain; he’s so close he can’t concentrate, just watches Shane’s face as Shane tugs him off. It doesn’t take much, a few wet strokes and Ryan’s coming, his hands on Shane’s chest like he can hold himself up. His arms shake from the weight of himself, from the force of his orgasm; he slides his palms up Shane’s chest, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Shane’s face; their chests are pressed together and Ryan’s breathing so hard against Shane's throat, cursing, mumbling nonsensically as he comes back to himself. Ryan can feel Shane wipe his hand on the thigh of his sweats.

“Hey, here,” Shane murmurs. Ryan picks his head up just so he can watch him suck a smoky breath from the joint still burning, saving it until Ryan presses his mouth to Shane’s and breathes in, letting his eyes flutter closed. He exhales through his nose, turning the press of their mouths into a lazy, lippy kiss. And then they just kind of lay there.

“There’s, uh, macaroni and cheese if you’re hungry,” Ryan croaks out, his voice rough in his throat as he remembers, only cause he’s getting hungry again.

“Sure,” Shane says, his fingers pressed low against Ryan’s spine, just underneath his rucked-up tee. They don’t move until they’re finished smoking.

When Ryan finally gets up, he ditches his sweatpants for a different pair, and grabs his snapback to secure it back on. Shane stubs the joint out in the ashtray on the nightstand, standing to pull his jeans back up, picking up his glasses and slipping them back on. He looks good like this, stoned, fucked out, tired and a little lost in Ryan’s bedroom. 

In the kitchen, Ryan heats up their food and they giggle while they eat. And then Shane leaves, cause, that’s that, but not before giving Ryan his number.

“You know, in case there are any other days you don’t feel like going to 7/11.”

Ryan figures there are going to be plenty of those days as he goes back to his room to grab his drink, eat Shane’s forgotten chips, and take a well-deserved nap.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on ye olde [tumblr](https://uneventfulhouses.tumblr.com/). i love you hot diggity dogs.


End file.
